


Kisses

by protectoroffaeries



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Implied/Referenced Sexual Content, Intimacy, Kissing, M/M, Short snippets, They're cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 05:23:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11434035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/protectoroffaeries/pseuds/protectoroffaeries
Summary: Twenty kisses.





	Kisses

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr prompt list of kisses. If I knew how to link to it, I would.
> 
> (Sidenote: If any of y'all want me to read your writing, please message me on tumblr about it. Please do not self-promote in the comment section of any of my fics. Thank you.)

i.

_“I love you.”_

It's just a whisper. Alex's breath fans against his lips. Everything is hot. _So hot._ John licks his lips, flames lick through him. Alex lets out another breath, _hot,_ and it burns.

_“Kiss me again?”_

ii.

They hit the door, stumble past the dresser, knock over the lamp. Dull thuds and muffled clangs follow them.

John doesn't notice. Not with Alex's mouth on his.

Alex bites his lip, _hard,_ and shoves John into the wall. His fingers curl around the fabric of John's shirt and he yanks. Leverage.

_Deeper. Yes._

iii.

 _“Please.”_ Alex is usually the needy one, but right now, John needs him.

He arches, grinds, no space between them. This is what he needs. Fuck. Alex is amazing, warm and soft. John rakes his fingernails across Alex's shoulders.

Alex thinks it's funny, and then suddenly, it isn't funny. Suddenly, Alex kisses him, and John moans.

It's exactly what they both need.

iv.

Alex has to go, John has to stay. John has to go, Alex has to stay. Round and round and round. But sometimes, _sometimes,_ they're lucky enough to be together.

Sometimes, Alex throws his arm around John's neck. _Cliché._ Sometimes, they make a huge goddamn scene in the middle of the airport. _Cliché._ Sometimes, they kiss so desperately that air and manners and the rest of the world disappear. _Cliché._

But only sometimes.

v.

Alex's fingers sneak under the hem of John's shirt. They're a bit cold, but they warm up quickly, tracing patterns down John's back. Writing his name on John's skin.

John is only half-paying attention to Alex's fingers. He's more concerned with Alex's mouth, the way their lips roll lazily together, the way Alex's tongue darts out to tease the roof of his mouth. _Playful._

Then, Alex's fingers slip lower.

John gasps, the sharp breath falling into Alex's mouth. He feels Alex grin against his lips.

vi.

Bad breath. Mouth full of cotton. Teeth gritty. John rubs his eyes and wakes up, head a little fuzzy, altogether unattractive.

Doesn't bother Alex.

The good morning kiss doesn't taste very _good,_ but John melts into it anyway.

vii.

Alex is always busy, always working. He has big plans, _big_ plans, and John couldn't be more proud of him. He is Alex's number one supporter, always has been.

Alex sits at the table and types frantically, like he's running out of time, eyes glued to the screen. John leans over and gives him the lightest peck on the cheek.

Alex doesn't stop typing, doesn't slow down. But he does smile.

viii.

Alex’s legs wrap around John's waist; his heels dig into John's calves. John has him pinned, arms pulled up above his head. _Heavy._

Alex plays dirty. He nips, licks, sucks, bites. John's lips are going to be sore tomorrow.

Alex pushes and pushes and pushes, so John pushes harder, until Alex whimpers, until he’s the one who breaks to breathe.

John marvels at him, watches as he tries to catch his breath, eyes still closed. He's beautiful.

His eyes flutter open, eventually. _“Holy fuck, John.”_

ix.

 _“Just one.”_ The words tremble, they're not suppose to tremble, but this date hasn't gone the way John thought first dates were supposed to. Why should it end that way?

Alex is close, and if the look in his eye is any indication, he can feel it, too. John's felt it all night, the tension, _the charge,_ dancing between them.

Alex’s lips, _soft,_ brush against his.

It's not enough.

Alex pulls back, _just one, John said,_ but John changes his mind.

Are first dates meant to end with passionate make-out sessions against the front door?

x.

John can feel it when Alex stares. He doesn't need to look up from the book he's reading. If Alex actually wants John's attention, he'll say so.

John keeps reading. Alex keeps staring. Seconds pass. Minutes.

John glances at Alex. He tries not to make it obvious. It doesn't matter. Alex has his gaze fixed on John's mouth. _Oral fixation, ha._

Alex crosses the couch and shoves the book out of John's hands. Makes himself comfortable on John's lap, like it's his throne, and he's a spoiled prince.

 _“I love kissing you.”_ Alex does what he loves.

xi.

Alex stops, pushes John away. _What? Why?_ John fears he did something. _Too much? Too soon?_

Alex isn't looking at him. He's looking down, down, down at their feet. At the wood of the porch. Not at John. _What happened?_

 _“I'm sorry, are you sure-”_ Oh. _Oh._ John is sure. John is more than sure. He taps Alex's chin, and when Alex looks at him, nervous, they pick up where they left off.

xii.

 _“Kiss me.”_ Alex's voice is throaty, hoarse. His wet lips glisten and glitter in the low light, and John watches, _transfixed,_ as he swipes his tongue across them.

Alex's mouth is always so busy. John is happy to show him how to slow down.

xiii.

Alex is slow, deliberate, at least at first. He loiters at the corner of John's mouth for a while, pressing close with passive pecks. Nothing sensational, yet.

Eventually, he trails his way down to John's jaw. Opens his mouth a little more, sucks a few hickies.

Alex starts to get impatient after that; he can only keep up the slow, teasing act for so long. He gets sloppy, carving his own path down John's neck. John tosses his head back. Teeth catch skin. John tangles his fingers through Alex's hair and directs him closer, impossibly closer.

Alex finds his way to John's collarbone, and he nips and sucks and licks. _Ravishes._

xiv.

It starts gently, chastely. A reassurance, a show of support. _Hey, I love you, it will be okay._ It starts because they don't need words. What they have is beyond words.

It grows. They're not known for their self-control, but they are known for being needy. It takes more than gentle today.

They do _fierce, rough, passionate_ better anyway.

xv.

Alex's fingers brush across John's cheek. John's eyes shut as Alex traces down to his chin and cups it. He leans forward and plants an easy, open-mouthed kiss on John's lips.

 _“I love you.”_ John doesn't open his eyes, but the smile appears on his face is genuine.

Alex's fingers leave his chin to find better purchase in John's hair, and then he tugs, he drags, he pulls John across the inch between them.

John likes it when he adds a little bite.

xvi.

Alex glares at the computer screen, really glares, with his nose and forehead scrunched up and everything. John remembers what his grandmother use to say about making faces: _“You'll get it stuck like that, Jacky.”_ It'd be a shame if Alex's face got stuck like that.

He doesn't ask what's wrong. Alex would brush him off.

He just gets up and gives Alex a peck on the nose as he walks by, a silly kiss as Polly calls them. Alex's face decompresses, and at first, he looks confused.

John turns his back before it happens, but he can feel it when Alex smiles.

xvii.

Alex is shorter than John, but he doesn't act like it.

He's the one who always cages John against the wall. He usually initiates the kissing. It is very Alex to ignore “normal” couple dynamics, and John doesn't have an issue with it at all.

It's cute to see Alex stand on his tiptoes.

(Alex drags him down, down, down when he gets tired of having to reach - and those kisses are wonderful, too.)

xviii.

 _“Are you a lapdog?”_ John pretends to protest Alex’s sudden appearance in his lap.

_“Oh, you know I'm your bitch.”_

John laughs, but Alex cuts him off, swallows his laughter, because he didn't come over here to play games. John knows. Alex isn't subtle.

John groans into Alex's mouth as Alex works his hips and grinds against the front of John's jeans. He climbed into John's lap for a reason, with a purpose.

John pulls back, tries to say something, but it sounds like a too much like protest, like an _Alex, I have work to do,_ so Alex sandwiches John's face between his palms and brings him back into the kiss.

xix.

John kisses Alex's cheek. His neck. His forehead. Alex doesn't react. He's busy, John knows he's busy working on something for Washington, but he’s certain it can wait.

So he licks a stripe up Alex's cheek.

 _“John, what the f-”_ John is quick to catch his mouth, to sink his teeth into Alex's lower lip, just enough to sting. Alex makes an annoyed noise, but John notices that he shuts the lid of his laptop when John starts licking the inside of his cheek...

xx.

Alex tucks into John's side. It's his favorite place to be when they watch movies together because he can rest his head on John's shoulder and nod off…

He snores, but not loudly.

John rests his own head atop Alex's. He gives his boyfriend’s head a little kiss, _sweet,_ and drifts asleep himself.


End file.
